Soul Keeper
by Superdoopernaturally
Summary: Running, Running for your life, your mind. Family moments, blasphemous cars, strange visions, blood, gore and horror what more could you want? On creative block and uni homework hold for the time being, DO YOU WANT MORE? Read and Review!
1. A boat ride gone wrong

**Soul Keeper...**

Sam's head lolled onto his shoulder, his tongue halfway poked out of his mouth giving him a puppy dog look. One hand over his crotch and the other behind his head, his eyes shut fast. A pool of drool collected on his chest as Dean tried to stifle a laugh at his brother's position. Trees, bushes, the occasional broken down car on the side of the road and a few signs whizzed past as the impala roared down the near deserted highway.

They had just come out of a job out of Wisconsin and were on their way to Michigan, to Beaver Island of all places. Dean had scoffed when Sam had told him about the disappearances off of trails through the Jordan River State Forest. Expecting to hear more information about the Jordan River whatsit, Dean had waited for more, and waited… and waited. He had looked up from his regular black coffee (with MORE coffee to wake him up) to find Sam's pale face staring at something on his laptop's screen. "Dude what is it? You found porn?" He asked with an innocent tone. "Oh f#k you Dean – no, it's just… it's… uhhh…" He faltered and trailed off. Dean sighed in exasperation before getting up to take a look at the website Sam had pulled up. Dean looked from the laptop to Sam a few times more than necessary before speaking up albeit bewilderedly, "Dude? You've gone pale looking at the boat rides?" Sam shoved him in the arm. "Dude, you know I get seasick. Remember the ferry ride you took me on when I was six? Remember the state of your shoes after it? Need I re-enact it?" "F#k no! Yes I remember…"

_Flashback..._

_Dean sneaks up on Sam,"BOO! Sammy, guess what??"  
Sam screams and kicks back, landing Dean a foot to the shin. "Ow Sammy!"  
"What do you want Dean?"  
"We're gonna have the day to ourselves! Dad's off on a hunt so we're gonna go and have some fun." Dean grabbed Sam's hand and led him through the motel room to his backpack to pull out suitable clothes.  
"Hey, Dean?"  
"Yeah Sammy?"  
"Where are we gonna go?"  
"Well, there's a cemetery around the corner, a haunted house across the road…" Dean grinned.  
"No! I thought we were gonna have some fun!" Sam stared at Dean with fearful eyes.  
"I'm only kidding Sammy, we're gonna go on a ferry ride, and maybe get an ice cream."  
"I've never been on a ferry, Dean."  
"Neither have I Sammy, but you never know if you don't try it so we're gonna have fun." _

When the boys were ready, Dean took Sam's hand and led him across the street. They walked past the haunted house Dean had mentioned, Sam felt a shiver run up and down his spine before speeding up, pulling Dean further along. Dean sped up to the same pace, "You know, you should be fine with haunted houses, you know what Dad does, what we do…" Sam looked over his shoulder at Dean, "Doesn't mean I can't hate them." Dean sighed and rolled his eyes before gripping his brother's hand a little tighter and making a turn towards the jetty.

When they arrived, Dean paid the lady at the booth for a day ticket before Sam and Dean walked through the turnstiles towards their ferry. They got to the ramp to walk onto the boat before Sam stopped at the edge of the platform. "What is it Sammy?", "That water looks awfully gross…", "Yeah well we're not going swimming Sammy, we're going for a ferry ride." With a little coaxing, Dean half dragged, half carried Sam onto the ferry, Sam scrambled into Dean's jacket when they came perilously close to the edge of the ramp and stayed hidden in his jacket until Dean half dumped, half threw Sam onto a chair at the bow of the ferry. "You're a big baby!" Dean laughed. "Shut up!" Sam curled up into his seat as Dean went to the railing to look down into the water. "Oh Sammy?" Dean called from over his shoulder, a wild grin on his face as he stepped up onto the first rung of the rail, he then swung his other leg over the side as he heard a squeal from behind him. Dean barely had time to guffaw at his brother's reaction before he was yanked by the back of his jacket to the floor of the deck by a panicked Sam. "OW SAM! I fell on my ass you idiot!", "Serves you right, you scared me!" Dean groaned and rolled his eyes. They went and took a couple of seats to wait for the ferry to grumble into motion. The last of the passengers filled the rest of the seats before they heard a low growl of metal on metal as the ferry's underbelly whirred into life. "Dean! Is it supposed to sound like that????" Sam asked, frightened. "I'm sure it's normal…" And in an undertone he added, "Nothing more normal than what we do…", "What Dean?", "Nothing Sam…" The ferry began to rock from side to side, hitting the side of the jetty a couple of times before stealing out of the dock. "Dean?"  
"Yeah Sam?"  
"I don't feel so good."  
Dean turned to Sam, his face was a brilliant pale pea green and his eyes were wide.  
"You okay?" Dean asked, a little unnecessarily.  
Sam had no time to answer. The ferry shook to Dean's side of the boat as Sam dry retched.  
"Oh dude, you better not - " Dean was cut off as Sam bent double and threw up all over the floor…. And Dean's shoes.  
"OH SAMMY!"  
Sam merely cried and continued to dry retch. Dean kicked off his sodden shoes as a few people turned in their seats to see what the kerfuffle was about. Dean shoved the now sticky and **stinky** shoes under his seat and dragged Sam off to a bathroom.

Sam shuddered. Dean shuddered almost a millisecond later, both obviously thinking through the same thing. Sam groaned and shut the laptop. Dean sat back down in his seat taking a long sip of his strong coffee. "So, Jordan River State Forest it is then…" Dean stated. "You realize that's the name of that British model?" Sam asked. "Oh yeah big fake breasts, man… that's kinda scary…" "Too true…" "Hey, isn't that forest on _Beaver_ island?" Dean asked with a suggestive smirk. "Sometimes I worry about you and your mind, unhealthy amount of dirtiness, you should clean it out sometime." "Never, Sammy, never." Dean grinned his trademark grin. Sam sighed and shook his head, he grinned… a little. "So what's with this forest thing then?" "Well… people have been going missing on the hikes through the forest. They go in, in groups and come out half the size of the group that went in, in the first place." "So what's so weird about that?", "Well… the survivors… their memories are erased." "What do you mean _erased_?", "They have no recollection at all of what went on in the forest, nor do they even know who they are, it's like their pasts are wiped clean.", "Okay, weird."

Sam awoke with a snort. Dean laughed as he turned up Nirvana's _Come as you are_. Sam rubbed at his forehead, his eyes squinting in the brightness of day. His face scrunched up into a frown as the music blared from the impala's speakers. He could barely hear Dean's mischievous laughter over the noise. Sam blindly reached for the volume control and turned it down to a bearable minimum. "Awww you're no fun." Dean sulked. "How much YAWN longer?" Sam asked thickly. "Nearly there…"

_Five minutes later_

"Are we there yet?" Sam asked.  
"Not yet, Sammy."

_Another five minutes later_

"Are we there **yet**?" Sam asked with a grin, knowing it would piss Dean off.  
"Nope."

_Four minutes later_

"We there yet?"  
silence

_Three minutes later_

"Do you think we'll be there yet?"  
"F#k off Sam…"

Sam grinned and shut his mouth, he got what he wanted.  
"Sam?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Five more minutes." Dean grinned. Sam grinned and shook his head. Sam rested his shoulder on the ledge of the window and looked out at the lake. They'd been driving alongside Lake Michigan and Sam could almost see Beaver Island off in the distance. Sam gulped. He didn't like boats, not at all. Swimming was fine but boats made him… seasick, and that was a horrible feeling. Sam chewed on a fingernail as they drew closer and closer to the jetty they'd be taking a boat from. Sam didn't even notice as Dean turned the key in the ignition, effectively killing the engine. Dean unbuckled himself and opened the door before looking over at Sam. He looked like he was brooding… brooding… what was with that boy and brooding? Dean picked up an unloaded gun from the back seat and threw it at Sam to break him away from his thoughts. Unfortunately, Dean didn't expect it to be such a perfect shot, hitting Sam in the forehead with the handle of the gun. "OWWWWW!!!!" Was all Sam could utter before scrambling in his seat to find what had hit him. He picked up the gun and looked pointedly at Dean. "What?" Dean asked with an innocent grin. "You are unbelievable, that gun could have been loaded." Sam rubbed at the angry red swell on his forehead; if looks could kill, Dean would be further than six feet under. Sam turned his gaze away from his brother and opened his door, swinging his legs out he stood out and in the blaze of the overhead sun. He turned to look at Dean. "This had better not take any longer that necessary." Sam warned. "Well… I think I should warn you now, but the boat we're going across in is much, much smaller than the ferry we went on when we were kids. It's gonna be a whole lot worse…"  
"Greeeaaat, just what I needed."  
"Oh and Sammy?"  
"What?" Sam gave Dean a reproachful glare.  
"Try aiming over the side and not for my shoes, kay?" Dean grinned.  
"I hate you so much." Dean grabbed Sam by the arm and they both made their way down to the jetty.

The water proved choppier than they had anticipated. Sam clutched the side of the boat, his knuckles going white with the pressure of holding on as if his very life depended upon it. Dean casually sat back, enjoying the ride. Sam was white as a ghost, a pale green tinge set permanently into the pigmentation of his face. Dean wore an expression of indifference. The driver of the boat was merely concentrated on making it across Lake Michigan alive. Dean had called an old contact out of his father's journal, _Mikey Flanagan – 0436 679 432 – Hunter/Boater – Lake Michigan_, before he and Sam had left for Beaver Island in the first place. It made it easier for them and they didn't have to pay for a ride across the lake. **_Score_**.

After being bumped about by another tirade of rogue waves, Sam went green.  
"Can we PLEASE just get there NOW?!?!?!" Sam held a hand to his stomach, the other still clasped tight over the edge of the boat.  
"Juuuust keep your eyes on the island ahead, it helps to focus on unmoving objects, we'll be there soon." Mikey offered.  
"Well that's hard to do when we lose sight of land every so often!!!" Sam started dry retching.  
"Dude! Keep your cool!" Dean chastised.  
Sam threw Dean a reproving glare. Sam had started to snipe back as a bout of sickness overcame him. He threw his head over the side and emptied the contents of his stomach into the murky water.  
"He really doesn't like boats, does he?" Mikey asked over his shoulder.  
"Childhood fear." Dean explained simply.

Mikey gave him a nod in understanding and got back to driving the boat. Sam continued to heave at the edge of the boat. Dean made his way over to lay a hand on his back before consoling him, "Dude, you lean any further over the edge and you'll fall in." Dean grinned. "I…" Sam started to say, retching again, "Hate…", Sam breathed heavily, trying to control his churning stomach, "Hate me?" Dean offered. "Oh god." Sam managed to gasp out.

After another twenty minutes on the choppy waters they reached the dock on the South end of Beaver Island. Dean had taken to rubbing Sam's back in circles as he heaved, occasionally throwing up something. Sam was amazed he had so much in his stomach yet it did come. Mikey had sped up when he saw Land was within reach, he didn't want to take any chances of vomit in the boat, and it would be nasty job to clean up. Sam gingerly stepped out of the boat and onto the jetty before promptly crumpling into a heap. Stepping off of the boat after being on it for so long mixed in with losing the contents of his stomach and quite possibly his lower organs, Sam had felt queasy. Dean followed Sam out of the boat as Mickey killed the engine, placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and waited for Mickey to join them.  
"Want help gettin' this one to a car?" Mickey offered.  
"That, would be great."

TBC...


	2. Damned Car!

**A/N: I didn't do it on the first chapter so I'm doing it now… I do NOT own anything supernatural, I only own the ideas. :D**

Mikey hadn't told Dean about the hire car the brothers were to use once they had reached Beaver Island, he'd conveniently left out that piece of important information. Mikey looped an arm under Sam's right shoulder as Dean followed suit with the other. "Now Sam, no more puking, you could've given Linda Blair a run for her money with that performance back there." Dean grinned, Sam glared at his brother. "Come on you two, this way…" Mikey led them away from the jetty. Sam's feet dragged along the ground, his earlier gastric gymnastics having sapped most of his energy. Dean grunted under the weight of his supposed little brother, being bigger than him and all. They hauled Sam up the hill and rounded a corner. Dean stopped dead in his tracks. He let go of Sam's arm and let out a low groan. "Are you kidding me??" He whined. "What?" Mickey asked.

"I have to drive that… that_ thing_??? Oh god, kill me now, _Pleeeeaaaase_."

"What? It's just a car, Dean." Sam rasped.

"I am shocked and appalled at you Sammy! My baby would be SO jealous if she knew I was driving that piece of sh - "

"Call it all you want, it's the only car I could get you without it costing me too much, you get what you're given, Winchester." Mikey interjected.

Mickey helped Sam to the car the rest of the way himself, Dean still moping and moaning about the "crap car" he had to drive. It was bright. It was lurid. It was yellow. It was a f#king Herbie imitation, Volkswagen beetle. Sam seemed to have perked up, a smile spread across his face, this was payback for making him take such a small boat across that horrible lake. Sam wound down the window. Dean was pacing back and forth, his hands over his eyes.

"Oi, Nancy, buckle up and let's get going, ey?" Sam called out.

"I can't believe I have to drive a beetle, goddammit… Mikey, I swear to god when we're done here I'm paying you a visit, you're dead mate." Dean threatened.

"Ooo I'm so scared I'm shaking." Mikey retorted sarcastically with a huge grin.

Dean grunted his disapproval yet made his way to the driver's side door anyway. He wrenched it open and heavily sat down behind the wheel. "Aww man, this is _nothing_ like my baby…" Dean curled his hand into a fist and beat it against the dashboard. "Stop whining like the baby you are and grow up, let's get going." Sam had had enough, he just wanted to sleep.

After fifteen minutes of driving along the main road at the south side of Beaver Island they came across a motel and pulled into the parking lot. Dean helped Sam out of the car, with an added punch in the arm jokingly. They walked in through the front doors and up to reception. The woman behind the desk looked to be in her late twenties early thirties, wire rim spectacles perched precariously upon her high bridged nose, dark hazel eyes behind those glasses. Her musty brown hair pulled back into a high ponytail, dressed casually in a just above knee length skirt and a bright red sleeveless top. Dean laid his hands upon the counter and took in her appearance. Sam rolled his eyes, knowing his brother was checking out this girl.

"Well, well, aren't we a pretty lady?" It wasn't really a question, Dean complimented the woman.

"Oh I'm sorry, you're talking to me?" The woman gave him her best bewildered look.

"Uhh…" Dean didn't know how to answer her.

"I'm only kidding. You're pretty yourself, what can I do to help you two?" She gave Sam a smile before turning her eyes back on Dean, waiting for an answer.

"We're looking for a room, two singles please, Miss… I'm sorry I didn't get your name?"

"Michaels, Alex Michaels. How long you staying?"

"Depends… we'll pay for a week. If we need more time we'll pay you more."

"Okay, that's two hundred dollars."

Dean dug into his pockets and pulled out his credit card. The name stamped across it read "James Bourne". He passed it over and Alex took the card from him and swiped it. She gave him a slip to sign and soon enough they were in business.

"Okay Mr Bourne, your room is number thirteen, you're on the second floor to the right side of the building, enjoy your stay."

Dean gave her his best trademark grin before turning back to the impala, the grin wiped clean off his face as he turned his back to her. He gathered their stuff and led Sam around the building and found their room. Amongst the duffel bags he carried, Dean managed to get the key out and unlock the door, pushing it open with his foot. He stumbled inside under the weight of the bags and dumped them on the dining table to the right of the front door. He sighed as he looked around the room they were spending the next week or so in. At least it wasn't garishly pink again. The walls were plastered with a grainy blue striped wallpaper, a comfy recliner chair sat in front of a decent sized television, off to the back and behind the closed door they'd find a room with their beds in, comfy enough mattresses. It was a change from the shockers they'd had before. Sam went and crashed in the recliner chair, raising his feet, sighing and closing his eyes contentedly. Dean rummaged around in one of the bags and pulled out another credit card. "I'm gonna go to the store and stock up on our usual stuff, you want anything?"

"Nah not really… Maybe some food though, starving."

"Yeah you would be after throwing your guts up. Right, one happy meal for the big kid it is then."

"F#k you, Dean." Sam told Dean with a smile on his face, his eyes still closed. Dean walked out the door and shut it behind him with a snap. He walked out to the car, if he could even call it a car, gunned its stupid engine and set off for the nearest 24/7.

Ten minutes later and Dean pulled into the parking lot outside _Buy And Save!_, killing the engine (oh boy he wished). He got out of the car and slammed the door shut, not caring too much for what Sam had nicknamed "Buttercup" on the drive to the motel. He walked through the automatic doors, grabbed a shopping basket and swung it precariously at his side. He walked down the condiments aisle and loaded the bottom of his basket with rock salt. He piled in a couple of bottles of water, went down the freezer end and picked out some microwave lasagnas. He made a pit stop at the confectionary aisle and grabbed a couple of big bags of peanut m+ms and made his way over to the checkout. Quietly humming the tune to AC/DC's iYou shook me all night long/i he waited behind a mother with her young daughter at her side. The checkout operator slow as all hell serving a guy who looked like his head was going to explode. Dean pictured steam shooting out of his ears and laughed to himself. Then the store was pushed into shock when the man let out a yell and slammed his fist on the counter. "MY GOD!!! YOU'RE SO GODDAMNED SLOW!!! This store is f#ked! Where's your manager?!?!?!" The girl serving him looked terrified beyond belief.

Dean spoke up, "That's no way to treat a lovely young lady dude, pay for your stuff and get the f#k out, your head needs tending to." The man glared at Dean, narrowed his eyes, threw his money at the poor girl, gathered his stuff and left the store, banging the door hard on his way out. "Jesus Christ almighty…" The mother in front of Dean said quietly to no-one in particular. The girl behind the checkout looked to be on the verge of tears yet soldiered on and put every customer waiting through at breakneck speed, terrified anyone else might yell themselves hoarse at her. She came to Dean and began to put through his shopping before Dean placed a hand on hers. "Look, you get that all the time in stores like this, there's no need to be scared, he was just a prick, kay?" The girl seemed slightly taken aback and then a look of some form of relief washed over her. Dean smiled warmly at her before she put through the rest of his shopping. She told him the amount with a little curiosity niggling in her voice at the amount of salt and bottles of water he'd bought but said nothing none-the-less. Dean expertly handed over his card and she swiped it for him. He signed, smiled again and grabbed his shopping and headed back out the store.

**A/N: Okay, I know it's not as much as the last chapter I have but at least it's something right?? Let me know what you guys think and whether I should do any more on this… Please Review!**

**Oh and if I do more on this, more of the soul keeper scariness is yet to come so let me know what you think :D**


	3. Falling and Insight

**A/N: Okay, got excited, here's another chapter. The usual crapola that I don't own rights to Supernatural, I own the story but! Thanks Kripke g**

Sam lay on the couch, snoring. His eyes fluttering as if in a dream. Dean walked through the door, bustling and noisy, putting the shopping on the table with a loud thud. All the salt had made the bags heavy. He rummaged through a plastic bag and dragged out the lasagnas, peeled back the protective seals and shoved them in the microwave set to high. He hummed a Metallica song loudly, walked across the small living area, plonked himself down on the tatty old couch next to the recliner and picked up the remote. He hit the button and sound blared through the room. "Holy smokes!"

_**TV…**_

A woman in a HORRIBLE neon pink blouse and a skirt SO short you can practically see

her underwear, appears on the screen. Her bright hooker red lipstick is smudged, her eyes

a smouldering black and her hair a tousled mess. She saunters up to the camera and we

realize she's got one of those cheesy, highly feminine voices you hear on erectile

dysfunction advertisements you see on LATE television, wait…

"Are you having problems touching wood? Is your mini man causing you strife? Is your wife currently booking an anonymous account at the local hit-man agency to take you out because she can't get any? Looking like you haven't been that high in decades? Then you need our new miracle formula _Woody-Wood_! Guaranteed wood within one minute of taking the pill! And then… you could do someone as sexy as I am…"

The woman grins seductively and drags a finger up her chin to her lips and then fades to a black screen with the words in fine print:

_SupportedbytheorganizationforErectileineptitudeoftheUSofA, Sideeffectsincludevomiting,nausea,diarrhea,anxiety,schizofreniaandinsomnia. _

Dean switched the television off fairly fast. "What channel do you think that was? Because I don't think ads as uhm… _insightful_ as that are normally on at this time of day…" Dean reasoned.

"I think it was the porn channel on pay television."

"Oh, should've known." Dean smirked.

"F#k you Dean."

Dean laughed, "Feeling hungry Sammy boy?"

The microwave PINGED to signify that their lasagnas were cooked.

"Mmmm, yes…" Sam rubbed his stomach, his stomach growled back.

The boys got up out of their spots and headed over to the table. Dean went over to the microwave, pulled out the lasagnas and promptly dropped them onto the side bench with a gasp of pain. He sucked his fingers. Sam laughed. Dean shot Sam a glare before picking up a tea towel to handle the molten hot lasagnas and brought them over to the table. Dean pulled out his chair, sat on it and swiftly fell, the legs of the chair buckling under his weight. He landed hard on his arse. Sam laughed as he poked his lasagna around. Dean got up grumbling, went over to the recliner and dragged it to the table, sat down and sighed. He picked up his fork and stabbed at his food. Sam chuckled to himself and no-one in particular. He stabbed a bit of lasagna with his fork, raised it to his mouth, blew it cool and with a smirk at Dean, shoved it in his mouth, eating heartily. He wolfed down his serve of food in what appeared less than a minute. Dean sat there, shocked and appalled, he shrugged and hoed into his food instead.

The brothers woke up the next morning, bright eyed and bushy. Well Sam's mop top was bushy as usual. Dean stretched out, swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there in just his boxers. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood to go and get dressed. Sam moaned, rolled over and fell out of bed with a loud thud. Dean laughed.

"Come on, you prima donna, we got some people to talk to." Dean said.

"Yeah yeah… my ass hurts…"

"No wonder." Came Dean's bemused reply.

After much of a fuss, Sam finally dragged himself to the beetle they had to drive. Dean was sitting in the front seat, impatiently drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, obviously not wanting to spend so much wasteful time in a car he loathed completely and utterly. Sam slowly put his seat belt on, the click it made set Dean's impatience snapping. "Goddammit! I HATE this damned car! F#king Herbie…"

Sam snickered and merely stared straight ahead, waiting for Dean to start the car. Dean jammed the key in the ignition, turned it forcefully and gunned the engine. The car lurched forward out of the parking lot and they were soon on their way. After a while Dean spoke up.

"So who are we investigating first?" He asked.

"A Reilly Matthews. She was one of the first out of the forest at the most recent hike, she'll be the first to question, though I don't know what good it will do."

"How come?"

"Don't you remember?"

"Remember what exactly?"

"That the people who've survived the forest hike have their memories wiped clean? It's like… they're shells of their former selves, they don't know anything, they're like zombies."

"Zombies… urgh… reminds me of the time that bitch zombie ran you down that one time." Dean snickered.

"Har f#king Har Dean, you're so goddamned funny. Anyway get moving – keep taking this road along and then turn left when you get the chance, she lives not far from here with her Mother."

"I love mothers."

"Pfft…"

"Okay, maybe not handbag wielding mothers."

"Too true."

Dean took the first left as Sam had told him to and they found themselves on the way down a winding road, the bitumen cracked and worn from many vehicles using the path. They drove through what looked like a mini village complete with all the little shops, a bakery, a newsagency, a 24/7 deli and even a cute little antique shop. Sam saw the mirrors put on pride in the window of the antique shop and shuddered uncontrollably, it reminded him of that Bloody Mary bitch way back when. Dean drove through and asked Sam where to next. Sam pointed out Bullwitch road off to the right and told him to take it. Dean raised an eyebrow but took the turn off anyway, following the track. Trees overshadowed the road on the way up the hill, the road turning into a dirt track littered with broken leaves, branches and the few odd logs that had fallen over during storms that had hit the place. Dean didn't care too much when they bumped the underbelly of the car over a particularly large log, he didn't even flinch. If he'd have been driving the impala, he would have been much more careful but noooo… He had to drive this piece of shit. They came over the crest of the hill and could finally see the house looming up ahead. The make of the brickwork made the house look dilapidated and old if it weren't for the modernized roofing. Dean pulled up just before the steps just to the house, killed the engine and got out of the drivers side, shutting his door with a snap. Sam did the same and rested a hand on the roof of the sickly yellow car and took in fully, the appearance of the house. The guttering at the corners looked rusted down, the bushes surrounding the porch were unkempt and wild, the stone steps looked recently swept, the large door looked to be oak with a fancily elaborate door knocker inset to the center. Overall, cleanliness and elegance balanced with unkemptness and dilapidation. It was an interesting mix.

Dean made his way up the steps, Sam not far behind him. Sam made sure his .42 was firmly in place at the back of his jeans just in case. From Sam's imarvellous/i view of Dean's arse, Dean was doing the same. They walked to the front door and fought over who should knock on the nasty looking door knocker. From a distance, it looked like a beautiful antique, up close the design was… unique to put it nicely. In the end, Dean beat Sam at paper scissors rock and Sam reluctantly drew the knocker back and knocked on the door. They waited. Footsteps were heard on the other side of the door and soon several clicks and chinks were heard as many locks seemed to be unlocked. The door opened a crack, a chain inhibiting the arc of the door. A bright blue eye and slightly chapped lips were seen through the crack of the door.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

"I'm Jerry and this is Tom, we'd like to talk to you about Reilly?" Dean informed her.

"I'm sorry, you've got the wrong place." They went to close the door, Sam put his hand up to stop her.

"Look, we're friends of Reilly's, would you mind sparing a little bit of your time? We miss her." Sam reasoned.

The blue eye stared at them long and hard. They heard a sigh as they closed the door and slid the chain back. They opened the door again to reveal a woman who looked to be in her mid to late thirties with shoulder length mousey blonde hair dressed casually in sweats, a form fitting t-shirt and barefoot. She stepped back to allow the brothers through the door. The inside of the house looked amazingly cozy, warm colours being the décor and a fireplace off in the corner blazing in the middle of the day. It was lovely really.

"Take a seat." She offered gesturing towards the knit covered armchairs by the fire. Dean and Sam awkwardly sat, though immediately relaxed when they found the chairs were warm and comfortable. "So what exactly did you want to talk to me about Reilly for?"

"Well… I'd like to know just who you are first." Sam suggested.

"I'm Maria, Maria Matthews, I'm Reilly's mother."

"Are you kidding me? You don't look that old!" Dean blurted out without thinking it through, Maria blushed.

"I'm 48 boys…"

"Damn…." Dean carefully muttered to himself.

"As you should know, Reilly's 23, poor girl."

"What exactly happened to her? We heard rumours running around, we weren't here when it happened."

"Well… It started out as a fine day really, her and a group of her friends decided to go on a hike through the forest, you know, to take in what surrounded them, we're a fairly close knit community on this part of the island so we know practically what everyone gets up to. Anyway… they started out on the hike, I drove her and a couple of her friends to a particular spot and waved them all off. I was to pick them up come five in the afternoon, they only wanted to go for a trek during the day, which I thought was sensible enough. I turned up at five as planned and saw no-one waiting. There wasn't any of their group in sight. I waited and waited and it reached near six thirty before anyone started coming out. There was something odd about them. Reilly came out first, a blank look on her face and when she looked up at me, I smiled at her, she looked completely confused," Maria's voice faltered a little, "I got out of the car… to see if everything was okay, only her and another of her friends, Andrew I think, came out of the forest that day, I asked her where the others were and she looked at me as if I was a complete stranger. What hit the money I guess was that she asked me who I was. She asked me incredulously who she was, said she couldn't remember a thing. Andrew was the same. What's more is that…"

"Hello?" Came a call from a door to the living area. Dean, Sam and Maria looked up to find Reilly standing in the doorway.

"Reilly, come meet our guests, this is… sorry what were your names again?"

"Tom and Jerry." Dean answered.

"Uhh… Hi." Reilly greeted them, Sam took an opportunity to simply come out with a blunt question.

"Do you remember us? Anything in general?"

"Uhm… no… what am I doing down here?" She asked, looking at her mother.

"You were just going back up stairs dear." Maria answered.

"Oh." Reilly turned and made her way back out of the room.

"It's… it's distressing. My little girl's gone…" Maria broke down and sobbed into her hands, not caring she was crying in full view of "Tom" and "Jerry", "I'm sorry… I'm not much help am I? I need sleep… you don't mind do you?"

"No not at all, thanks for your time, I honestly hope things get better for you and Reilly, she's a great person." Sam attempted consoling her, standing up and readying himself to leave. Dean stood as well and the boys let themselves out. They walked briskly down the steps and to the car, standing at their respective doors.

"Well sounds like Andrew won't be able to help us either, what now?" Sam asked.

"We go to the rangers, get more scope on the history of the forest, it's our next best option." Dean answered, getting into the car as Sam followed suit. He gunned the engine and made for the border of the forest.

**A/N: Okay, I was excited, enjoy and PLEASE let me know what you think of it!**


	4. Seeing things

Dean stopped the car as soon as they got to a gas station not too far from Reilly and Maria's home. He walked around the car, kicked at the tyre and opened the fuel cap. He muttered something sounding like "Piece of shit…" as he filled the car up. Sam laughed at his brother, still bitching about the car they had to drive. Dean went in and paid for the fuel (another credit card to Gomez Addams, the cashier gave him a weird look) and came back out. He banged a fist on Sam's passenger door, Sam opened the door.

"What?" Sam asked, Dean looked at him, smirk in place.

"You're driving, I aint driving this shit bucket any longer."

And so Sam drove. Dean sunk so low in the passenger seat that only his hair was visible to passing cars. "Dude, what the hell are you doing?" Sam had to ask. "Well riding Herbie isn't my highest accomplishment dude, and before you even START to make fun of me for that, I hate this car, with a passion." Dean explained, finishing off with a groan. Dean turned away from Sam, Sam laughed – naturally. Dean sighed, sat up a little more and looked out the window. The landscape had changed as soon as they got on the main road of the southern end of Beaver Island.

Everything was so picturesque. Trees scattered over the landscape looking out to the lake. There was a perfect view of the lake through those trees as they drove further north. Looking inland of Beaver Island, the forest overtook the senses. You could just about hear the business of the forest itself, the calls of wild animals, the lively rustling of the trees emanated from within, a thick musty smell overpowering the senses, of rain in the air and the general surrounding of nature. It was somewhat relaxing. Dean wound down the window, put his face to it, closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of fresh air and forest life. He sighed and kept his eyes closed.

All of a sudden, there was a yelp of pain from the driver's seat and the car jerkily swerved, knocking Dean out of the trance he'd found himself in. He turned to Sam, his head on the steering wheel, his eyes scrunched up tight, face a grimace of pain. The car lost control and Dean yelled out to his brother, "SAMMY!" when he got no response (more groaning and gasps of pain), he took drastic measures and took control of the wheel. He managed to drive them off the side of the road, at least they weren't moving anymore. Sam grunted.

_Running, running for your life. Running from the horror within. Snap your head around that way, no-one follows. Snap your head forward and come to a standstill. Hanging in front of you, hanging from a branch above, a thick rope woven around his neck, is a man, his mouth wide open in terror, his eyes a pallid white, chest heaving desperately. Gurgling his pleas for help. You shudder, uncontrollably. Then something comes over you. You race over to the man, climb the tree that hangs him using broken stumps of branches as footholds, reach out and cut the rope that hangs the man. He falls, gasping. You jump to the ground, sole focus on the man lying at your feet and forgetting what you were running from. Your senses go black as a searing pain shoots through your skull…_

"FUCK!" Sam moaned loudly and grabbed his head. He pulled at his hair to make the images in his mind go away. Sam opened his eyes and Dean gasped out loud. His eyes were a pallid white, the colour gone, Sam shouted out in pain and tightened his grip on his head. "Sammy, Sammy… stay with me for fuck's sake stay with me!" Dean tried consoling his brother. He put a hand to Sam's neck and gently eased the pain there away. Sam moaned once more before stopping his yelling. He drew in his breath sharply before looking at Dean. "What is it?" Dean asked.

"I don't… know…"

"Well what did you see?"

Sam rubbed at his temples, easing the pain before speaking again, "I think it was in the forest. I dunno… I saw it through my eyes like… I was there… and… I… I was chased. I don't know what it was but all I could feel was fear… and then I almost ran into some guy hanging in a tree, dunno what possessed me to climb the tree and let the guy free, but the guy was still alive… how the hell can you still be alive hanging by your neck?"

"I dunno Sammy… but obviously he can…"

"Yeah… so I jumped from the tree… looking at the guy on the ground and then pain through my head…" Sam grabbed at his head, still feeling the repercussions, "Like someone whacked me over the head or something and then everything went black."

"Yeah, your eyes went white too…"

"Huh?"

"Your eyes, when you opened them first time they were completely white dude, weird…"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Huh."

"Well this conversation sure is interesting. C'mon - you get out and let me drive the rest of the way, don't wanna risk crashing the car again, Mikey would kill us if his Barbie mobile was wrecked."

Sam laughed slightly. He winced as the effort of laughing brought pain to his head. He slowly unbuckled himself, was just about to hear that satisfying click when Dean let out an exasperated sigh and did it for him. Dean got out of the car and Sam climbed over the seats to get into the passenger seat.

Dean sat down in his rightful position in a car, belted himself up and got the car started again. Sam heavily sighed and leant back into his seat as far is it would allow him to go. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on easing the slowly waning pain in his skull.

Dean had been driving for not even five minutes before Sam had fallen into a fitful sleep. He kept muttering things under his breath and his hand would reach out a couple of odd times, yet the boy still slept.

Another five minutes and Dean was ready to declare his brother legally insane and book him in for a lobotomy. Sam was muttering in Latin. Both of his hands were stretched out and it would have been funny had it not have been for the earlier vision.

Dean wondered what it meant. Sam's visions were of what was to happen, weren't they? After all, his track record proved that theory one hundred percent. He figured he should get to that ranger, and get to that ranger _fast_. He put his foot on the pedal and zoomed off for the ranger's office, not too far into the Jordan River State forest itself.

**A/N: So here's another update, and this is where it gets interesting... let me know what you guys think! Oh and I've just enabled anonymous reviewing, so everyone, let me know what you all think!! **


	5. Befuddling Visions

**A/N: Do not own Supernatural, Nor do I own the characters, nor do I own Harry Potter (for it is he who gets a mention in this chapter) **

**ENJOY AND REVIEW**

The "Herbie Wannabe" puttered along the highway, occasionally coughing through the exhaust. Every time it did, Dean shook his head in disgust, the impala would _never_ do anything like that. Sam sat slumped into the passenger seat, a hand to his forehead, mulling over the vivid vision he'd had. What the hell did it mean? That someone was going to die? He was going to die? Who the hell had he been in the vision? Who was that guy hanging in the tree? Sam couldn't put his finger on it.

They'd been driving for ten to twenty minutes before Sam had woken up again. Dean had kept sneaking quick glances at his brother to make sure Sam didn't sleep-kill him. He'd woken up with a grunt and hadn't said anything. Dean had asked him what he was dreaming about, told him about all the girly hand gestures Sam had been making in his sleep, laughed at his own joke and received a glare in response. Dean resolved to focusing on driving the car. Sam had stayed silent.

The dream wasn't like any other dream he'd had in a while. Sam usually dreamt of Jess… pinned to their ceiling looking vulnerable. He'd never been able to wipe the look on Jess's face when he'd looked up to find her from his memory. No, this dream was different. It wasn't your normal dream where you find yourself walking naked down the street, nor was it weird like ones where you're walking into a department store, notice some Labrador puppies and skin them alive with your bare hands… wait, that's just me. It had a calming effect upon Sam. Despite the horrors that flashed before his eyes. He didn't hear sound, only heavy breathing and a steady heartbeat. He had backed into a tree, hearing unusual things all around him and had heard something above him. He had looked up and his whole dream went blank, As if his world had ended. Then another had started, in much the same way though different location, different feeling. This time he had stumbled into a kneeling girl on the ground, she didn't look much older than eighteen. Tears of blood stained her cheeks, she held out her hands towards Sam and he noticed the tips of her fingers had been severely chewed off, her bare chest heaved and her mouth open in a wide silent scream for help. Sam could only imagine the sounds that came from the poor girl. Her top had been ripped open, exposing her chest and a large and deep slash stretched diagonally across her torso. It was a wonder she was still alive.

Sam broke away from his thoughts as the car came to a shuddering halt. They had been driving down a dirt track for what seemed like ages and came to a gate at the very edge of dense forest. Behind them the trees were loosely clumped together, the forest ahead seemed to leer at them, swaying in the breeze that buffeted the trees and threatened to snap younger trees at the base of their trunks. Sam shivered ominously. Dean shook his head, as if shaking away unnecessary thought. Dean climbed out of the now dubbed "Shit Bucket" and made his way over to the cabin at the edge of the forest. Sam followed at a wary pace, his eyes never leaving the forest life in front of them. Something about the forest brought fear induced chills to his spine. Something about that forest wasn't right, wasn't right at all…

Dean knocked on the door several times before they heard any signs of life within. Heavy footsteps sounded on the other side of the door, and if they weren't mistaken, there was a sharp bang sounding much like a steel capped boot at the foot of the door that Dean had knocked at. A clicking sound was heard before the door was abruptly swung inwards to reveal a man.

He looked to be in his late twenties, around Dean's age, though the lines and scars on his face seemed to tell a longer tale. A sharp and distinct scar ran horizontally across his right cheek, perfect in every way, straight as can be, which irked Dean. A cut like that could only have been from a precise swing of a blade. Other scars the man bore were jagged and more believable, pertaining the appearance of a regular forest ranger. There was an air of superiority exuding from the man, his chin held high, pointed nose slicing through the air. His eyes were an unusual shade of grey, flecks of yellow and orange spread in the iris of each eye. Eccentric. He wore the usual forest ranger get up, pants down to his ankles tucked into the deep brown steel capped boots he wore. His shirt crisp and clean, ironed straight, baring the badge at his left breast. "Ranger Dougall" , the badge read. Dean took it upon himself to introduce themselves.

"Hi there Ranger… Dougall is it? Did I pronounce it right?" The ranger nodded, "I'm Greg Calvin, this here is my apprentice, Josh Hobbs, and we're reporters from "Mother Nature Weekly" and would love to talk to you about this forest, the Jordan River State Forest - "

"I know the name of the forest dipschitt, I AM the ranger here."

"Sorry… I just usually like to go through the formalities first, it's Hobbs' first assignment and I have to show him the _proper_ way of doing things at the Magazine we write for."

"Whatever." Ranger Dougall shrugged dismissively, "What's your point?"

"Our readers want to know what exactly they can get out of a visit to this forest, what will they see? What kind of wildlife can they expect? Will it be a worthwhile trip?" Sam asked earnestly.

"We're a family oriented Magazine, so anything you can give us will be helpful."

"Okay, take a seat," They sat at the chairs haphazardly placed in the small room, "Well on a day trip you can go for a hike on the various routes through the forest. There's one that's a little more adventurous that starts not far from this cabin that a lot of people have been interested in - "

"The one where people come out with their memories erased? How is that a good hike?"

"Well a lot of people are interested in the rumours surrounding that particular hike, we usually take care in just who goes down that hike and make sure that the groups they go into the forest in know what they're doing. Naturally we have one of our other Rangers go in with them to about half way to make certain that they know what they're doing, we're a helpful bunch here."

"Sure sounds like it…" Sam muttered to himself, something wasn't right about Ranger Dougall, Ranger Dougall flashed the brothers a flawless grin, "What kind of position do you hold here?"

"I'm the boss around here, we all share the jobs of being a Ranger and that includes myself… But I generally oversee what goes on." Dougall wouldn't go any further on the subject.

"Well… we thank you for your time… You've been a real help Dougie." Dean quipped.

"That's Ranger _Dougall_ to you, son." Ranger Dougall chastised Dean.

"Oh no worries, if we need anything more of you… fine men here, we'll be back before you can say… oh… Christo?" Dean cleverly quipped.

Ranger Dougall shuddered a little bit, though whether it was to the chill wind that seeped under the door or if Dean's bait had anything to do with it, the brothers couldn't be sure. Dean went to stand and excuse himself from the cabin. Sam remained in his seat.

"Come on Josh, let's get back to the motel…" Dean encouraged Sam.

Sam wasn't listening. He had a hand stuck fast to his temple, rubbing it soothingly and his eyes were set in a look of pain. Dean groaned exasperatedly. _God why now?? Why can't we ever choose when he has these fucking visions??? _Dean sighed and put a hand to Sam's back. Ranger Dougall got to his feet, a look of concern plastered onto his face.

"What's going on?" Ranger Dougall asked…

_Running, everything counts on you running away from this threat. This blood thirsty threat. You hear the screams of a girl behind you, you saw something claw her face clean off her skull, and you're amazed to hear her still screaming. You can still hear the heavy determined breathing beating down upon you as you run for relative safety, whether you get there alive or not is completely unknown. You see a clearing ahead of you, thankful for a chance to catch your laboured breathing you run towards it with sheer determination. Your foot trespasses the golden light of the sun that falls to the ground through the canopy of the forest and you hurtle your body into the warmth of the beating sun. You cannot hear that **thing **anymore, you cannot feel its presence behind you. You think you're safe… but oh how wrong you are. _

_The world warps, time and space shimmers and your view point changes. _

_You're hanging in the trees, your eyes downcast upon a helpless girl running through the forest. Your lips twist into a malicious snarl and you launch yourself through the trees, the wind blowing past your nimble unnatural frame. You hit the forest floor without so much as a snap of a twig and set yourself in hot pursuit of the vulnerable girl running from you. You bear down upon her, your hot breath tickling the back of her neck, making her shiver uncontrollably. You follow her as you see her approaching the clearing. You smile a horrible smile and retreat as soon as she runs into the light. You remain silent, hidden by the dense foliage, watching her every move, watch as her shoulders slump with relief and you snicker. You climb high in the tree and giggle unnaturally as you come closer to her. You see her ears prick at the sound of your unnatural voice and smile a devilish smile. You hang… by your feet… just above the girl… and growl, long, loud, and low. She slowly looks up, you both scream. You plunge down upon her and rip into her helpless body._

"JOSH YOU FUCKING DIPSCHITT!!!!!" Dean yelled into Sam's face, trying to slap a screaming Sam out of the vision he'd had.

"What in GOD'S name is going on here?!?!" Dougall asked as Sam stopped screaming, his throat hoarse and breathing ragged. Sam put a hand to his throat and looked wildly at Dean.

"This… fuck… this isn't what we thought it was D- Mr Calvin… It aint the future… I'm… I'm seeing this through Reilly's eyes…"

"Fuck…"

"What the fuck are you two boys smoking???"

"Crack, excuse us, I need to speak to my _colleague _alone, thanks for your help."

And with that Dean dragged Sam out of the cabin. Dean helped Sam into the passenger's seat before getting in beside him, taking the driver's seat. Ranger Dougall stood on the porch of the cabin, watching them carefully. Dean gave the ranger a smile before kicking the car into gear and reversing away, going as fast as he could down the dirt track back to the main road. Dean turned right onto the main road, heading south again, pulled over to the side of the road and killed the engine.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Dean _had_ to ask.

"Reilly… Those visions, all those visions… well I _think_ all those visions, I saw through Reilly's eyes, there is something seriously fucked up lurking in that forest Dean, and we need to find it, before it can do more damage… It's fucking brutal."

"Why, what does it look like?"

"The only angle I got of it was from a distance… and I couldn't see it properly… remember, I saw it through Reilly's eyes, there was a girl and this… this **thing **tore her face clean off of the girl… clawed it off… and then… I don't know… I was the **thing** and it… it… wait… this can't be right… I tore into her body, I tore her limb from limb… yet at the Matthews house… fuck this is confusing…"

"Okay, well… let's get back to the motel… get a good night's rest before we do anything… you've had what, **two** visions in one day?? Next thing you know I'll be calling you Sybil Trelawney dude."

"You read Harry Potter?"

"Uhhh…" Sam laughed, "Shut the fuck up dude."

Dean jammed the key into the ignition again, flooring it and speeding off down the highway, turning the music up full bore to ignore Sam's taunts…

TBC…

**A/N: Okay… PLEASE don't hesitate to review, I'd love to hear EVERYONE'S opinions! Hope to hear from you soon and I'll be continuing this ever lovin' story soon!!**


	6. Delving Deeper

**A/N: Sorry guys, Fanfiction wouldn't let me upload my next chapter for quite a while back there!!! But YEY!!! IT'S WORKING AGAIN!!! On with the show... **

**Oh and the usual disclaimers... I don't own Supernatural, I own the idea...**

They reached the motel in record time. Whether it was because Dean was trying to ignore Sam's taunts, or whether Dean was being the hot head that he was, neither Winchester would know. Dean did what Dean did best. He parked the car and wrenched his door open, getting out of the car and shaking himself off. Sam patted the seat consolingly.

"S'okay Buttercup, Dean'll come round…" Sam said loud enough for Dean to hear, Sam smirked.

"Oh aint you just _rich_."

Dean shook his head in annoyance and headed for their room. Sam laughed and followed him. Dean opened the door and almost immediately threw himself into the recliner chair. Sam walked in front of him and made himself comfortable on the couch.

"We need to talk." Sam more than suggested.

"Oh really?"

"Yes really."

"About what, Trelawney?"

"About your Harry Potter addiction – what is it with you? I thought you were all tough!"

"Yeah well, shut up dude, okay? Voldemort's cool. I'd love to show Harry a thing or two about blasting that son of a bitch from the face of the earth…"

"I don't know you."

Dean stuck his tongue out at Sam. Sam threw a cushion at Dean, hitting him square on the jaw. Dean threw it back and Sam caught it.

"You suck." Dean childishly jibed.

"Yeah well…" Sam sighed, "I'm worried about this, Dean."

"Worried about what?"

"Worried about this whole job, it just doesn't seem right."

"Yeah I guess…"

"You guess?"

Dean shrugged.

"You didn't get a funny feeling about that forest across from the rangers cabin?"

"No, not really…"

"Huh…"

"Why? Did you?"

"Nothing seems right. Something big is in there Dean."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Did that Dougall seem funny to you too?"

"Yeah I thought so, that's why I went the whole _Christo_ route, that character just doesn't add up."

"I mean, there's something about that scar on his face that I can't put my finger on, and the fact that there wasn't a rip or crease in any of his clothing, nor were there any dirt marks on him that would suggest he's a ranger. He _said_ he shares the duties… but…"

"Yeah, I thought he was weird too. I mean, come on, the guy uses an _iron_."

"Shut up dude. What's more is he also says he has rangers go out with the people who go on hikes down that rumoured route. Don't you think that's suspicious?? I mean, those guys come back… with their memories in tact and none go missing either I'm willing to bet, Dougall didn't seem to hint anything on that way."

"Yeah… Though what's more weird is your visions dude. Two in one day?"

"Yeah, luck of the draw I guess."

"It's gotta mean something, I mean those ones really took it out on you. And why the hell would you be seeing into the past, more so through Reilly?"

"I don't know, but it's gotta mean something important. It's like a fucking difficult puzzle and half the pieces are still missing."

"Man I loved puzzles, specially those ones with the little knobbly handles that you could grip and try and find the right space they fit…" He sighed and grinned.

"My god, how old are you?"

"26?"

"Yeah, 26 going on four maybe…" Sam muttered.

"Shut up!"

Sam sighed and got up from the couch. He stretched his arms and cracked his neck. Dean threw him a glare and Sam grinned back.

"I'm gonna go and have a shower and get some sleep. What about you?"

"Pay TV porn?"

Sam shook his head and decided to ignore Dean's answer. He turned his back on his bigger brother and could almost feel the grin burning into the flesh of his back. He slammed the door on it. Dean snickered to himself and turned the television on.

Sam undressed himself and turned the hot water tap on full bore, turning on the cold tap far enough for the heat to be bearable. He stepped under the shower head and let the water run down his body in rivulets. The searing heat washed away the stress of the past few days. He stood there, doing nothing and simply letting the force of the shower beat into his back, trying to forget everything that had happened thus far.

He stayed in the shower, scrubbing himself clean, until the water went bone cold. He turned the taps off and stepped out. He grabbed a towel from the rack and vigorously rubbed his hair dry. He looped the towel around himself and walked out into the motel room. Dean sat staring at the television, not noticing when Sam came out. Sam padded across the living area and to their room. He shut the door behind himself, walked over to the bed, took off the towel and dried himself. He threw on a pair of clean boxers and climbed into his bed. He laid his head on the pillow and tried to will all thought away.

He lay there for what seemed like hours before he finally fell asleep…

_He walked through the forest, his nerves on edge. He of all people would complete the ritual. Nobody knew of it, nobody knew what he was doing. Everyone was told it would be a mere hike; nothing more, nothing less. _

_He knew what he was doing. He should've known better than to be as nervous as he felt. He should be, above everything, excited about the prospect of what the result of this ritual would bring. Yet try as he might, the well of fear built in the pit of his stomach, churning almost violently._

_He picked up his pace, eager to do this despite his obvious anxiety. He followed the path through its winding course, the way littered with leaves, sticks and odd logs. The trees towered above him, casting distorted shadows over his nimble and slight frame. The shadows of the trees' branches moved with the wind, yet he could have sworn he saw them reaching out towards his own shadow. _

_He tripped. A loose stone hindered his almost flawless path through the forest. He fell, sprawled across the forest floor. He coughed dirt and stone, flecks of blood colouring the ground before him. He groaned, grinding his teeth together and wincing as he heard the grit still in his mouth wearing away at the plaque. He lifted his hands, scratched and grazed, beads of blood forming at the corners of each. _

_He winced as he pushed himself up off of the ground and to a sitting position. His right foot throbbing painfully and a deep gouge in his left knee. He winced again and brought his knee up to his face for inspection. The cut was deep. He blew gently upon it, drawing in a sharp breath of pain in reaction. _

_A loud clap of thunder sounded overhead. He snapped his head up. Trying to look in vain through the canopy of the forest at the sky overhead. What little sky he could see was covered by ominously dark clouds swirling and obscuring the blue. He looked back down at himself. _

_A pleading whisper sounded in his ear. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. A shiver ran down his spine. The pleading voice sounded unnatural, inhuman, encouraging. _

_He set his face in a steely expression of determination. He mentally diminished the pain of his injuries and stood, the pain in his rolled ankle gone. A whirlwind of voices seemed to come from every direction, encouraging him on, pleading with him to move on, that it was time. It **is** time. _

_He took a step forward, following one foot after the other, breaking into a run. He ran through the trees with precision, missing every branch though the ones that did snag at his skin, his clothes, he brushed off and forgot. This was not about him anymore._

_He came to a standstill in the middle of a clearing. The end of the hike. A perfect circle of trees surrounded him. He looked to the sky, his bloodied hands hanging at his sides. Angry swirls of clouds whirled overhead, darkening the woods around him in what would have been a mid afternoon. Thunder crackled ominously above, continually beating the drums of the man that stood in the clearing surrounded by the perfect circle of trees. _

_He remembered back to the book he'd read. It had been handed to him by a stranger on the street and he took it with a ready hand. It told him of great power, of promises of immortality. A day of reckoning to come, a creature of formidable power and strength. The greed in him had won. He'd researched it many times and found nothing to contradict his decision. This was all happening to plan, sans the fall in the forest on the trek here._

_He knelt, and winced. He strengthened his resolve and manipulated his body to resemble the picture he'd seen in the book. His right arm stretched out towards the sky, his knee beneath him, his other at a ninety degree angle to his body, his torso twisted to the left, his left arm wrapped around his chest, his head staring into the sky. _

"**_Pario wreaker of havoc , addo him ut is regnum quod may is epulum super is , suus vitualamen."_**

_He yelled this into the air, his voice carrying on the wind and magnifying to ear shattering volumes. A tremor could be felt in the earth beneath his feet and he faltered, it was unexpected. The sky seemed to pulse with life. He continued on._

"**_May polus patefacio quod igneus depths of abyssus spew continuo is everto."_**

_The ground rumbled, the sky buzzed with electricity. Forks of lightening licked across the sky, sometimes down to the earth, igniting trees in their paths. He trembled with fear and anticipation._

"**_Reus him ut is tractus in vicis insquequo a electus unus crux crucis suus semita quorum is mos embody , validus ut roam regnum of vir procul suus mos."_**

_A lightening bolt threatened to engulf the man in the middle of the clearing, striking the ground at his feet and sending an electric pulse through the earth. Reverberations could be felt traveling through his body and he almost screamed out in pain. He scrunched his eyes shut and instead focused on the electricity running through his being. Another voice boomed inside his skull. His head felt ready to explode with the force. FINISH IT!!! _

_He resumed his position and did just that, he finished it._

"**_ADDO HIM!"_**

_Everything stopped. Time stood still. The thunder reduced to a whisper and the clouds dissipated above. The ground stopped trembling and the electricity stopped coursing through the man's veins. Silence descended upon the forest._

_The man looked down at himself. He could feel no pain. He gasped in wonderment, though they say seeing is believing. His wounds, from the fall on the journey here, gone, reduced to nothing. He felt, almost… normal._

_It started as a ghost of a whisper, then grew louder and louder. A rumbling at his feet. He focused instead on the ground, rather than his astounding healed wounds. The ground shook. Blades of grass trembled with such force he could almost imagine the grass at his feet alive and struggling to break free. _

_Stones trembled and moved before the ground rose in front of him. At a dead centre in the perfect circle of trees. A gnarled hand broke the surface of the ground, long black claws dug into the earth around it and the man couldn't help but stare. Another hand broke the surface and repeated what the other hand did. The ground shook with unbelievable force and **something** burst free. It flew into the sky, never seeming to stop before falling gracefully back to earth. The man trembled at the sight before him._

_It towered above him; a slight and nimble frame supported by legs triple the length of its torso, a heart beating at its chest, pulsating under the skin visibly. Its feet fingered the ground, opposable fingers that would allow it to grab at objects. Its arms were wiry and powerful, muscle rippling beneath the unusual skin, pigmented a dark blue and unusually patterned. Its neck stretched longer than the average human's, a pointed head atop the neck. Its teeth shone unnaturally, glistening a blinding white and dripping with saliva. Its eyes bore into the man, making him tremble with fear. Pupil void eyes coloured black of the night sky. _

_It snarled. He stepped back involuntarily, out of fear. And a grin spread across the demons features. His breathing quickened to a rapid pace and the monster advanced on the vulnerable man. It reached out its hands and ran its claws down the side of the mans face, making him tremble. With one fluid motion, it drew back its claw, pointed its finger and buried it deep within the mans skull. He screamed an unnatural scream. His voice resonated over the forest, unsettling the wildlife and disturbing the balance. He slumped dead against the demon's claw, still standing. The demon grinned a malicious grin, lowered its head and brought its salivating mouth to the head of the man, drinking thirstily from the wound at his head. It sunk its teeth into the mans skull, breaking the bone and feeding greedily. With its other claw, he ripped into the mans body and tore him limb from limb as you would a thanksgiving turkey. _

"Holy shit!" Sam sat up in bed, drenched in sweat and shivering.

**TBC…**


End file.
